


Inside of Your Smiles

by dedougal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora doesn't want to know what's going on with Stiles. She just wants to stay away from them all. It's not her fault that Derek thinks they can get to Stiles through Lydia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inside of Your Smiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissLouisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLouisa/gifts).



> I hope I managed to work with enough of your prompts to make this work for you! It was a real pleasure to write.

Cora let the door bang shut behind her, trying to suppress her sense of smell. It was bad enough hearing Lydia and seeing Lydia, but she didn’t need to smell Lydia when she was stretched out over a desk, a boy between her legs, hand working up her skirt, up her top. It was futile. Cora had to breathe, drink in the warm, rich musk of Lydia and arousal, sweet, salty and overwhelming.

“What?” Lydia asked. The boy stood up, trying to hide what he’d been doing, hide the bulge in his pants. Lydia didn’t care. She didn’t close her legs, sort her top, and Cora was treated to a glimpse of milky white skin and the blue lace of Lydia’s bra. 

Cora ground out a sigh. “We need to talk.” What she needed was Lydia’s help but she wasn’t about to admit that in front of the sniveling sophomore who was trying to slide out of the room around her. She had a reputation to protect. She didn’t try to hide how reluctant she was to be there.

Lydia didn’t move. “Bye!” she called, as the boy grabbed his bag, held it in front of his crotch and finally left them alone.

“Aren’t you going to tell him to call you?” Cora snarked. 

She hooked a chair under the door knob. Lydia and her paramour should probably have done that and Cora wondered at that for a moment. Lydia was smarter than that. She wouldn’t want to get caught unless… Cora cut off that train of thought.

“Nope,” Lydia said. She was still sprawled out over the desk. Cora felt another wave of that arousal scent swirl around her, engulf her. “And now I’m just too turned on to talk to you.”

“But we need your help. We need you to talk to Stiles. Something’s going on.” Cora tried not to let her desperation show but the very fact she’d come to speak to Lydia at all probably gave her away. She’d only agreed to do this after Derek had pointed out they had no other options.

Lydia examined the nails on her right hand. “Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ sound. “Not after you interrupted my orgasm.”

“I could-“ Cora could feel her ears blushing – the Hale family curse. The other one, she guessed – and tried to backpedal. “I mean.”

“You could do what, Cora?” Lydia stopped pretending to ignore her and turned her determined focus on Cora. “You willing to help a girl out?”

Cora knew she should be saying no. She should be telling Lydia to fuck off or should be pulling her claws out and threatening to rip Lydia’s pretty skin off her perfect face. Sex was supposed to be intimate, a genuine thing rather than this brusque exchange. 

Cora should be protesting but instead she took a step forward. Lydia didn’t move away, for all she tensed for a moment, and then relaxed almost muscle by muscle. Cora took that as permission, crossing the space between them and running her hand up Lydia’s thigh. She pushed the short skirt out of the way and found that Lydia’s panties matched her bra. Cora brushed her fingers against the darker material. Satin. Nice.

Lydia used one arm to hold herself up and the other to haul Cora closer. “I liked to be kissed while I come,” she said, tongue flicking out to slick her already wet lips. “You can get started now.”

Cora kissed her like Cora liked to be kissed: direct, wet, no messing around. Lydia seemed to like it, especially when Cora hauled her up and worked the other hand into Lydia’s underwear, fingers already working against her clit. Lydia clung onto her shoulders, grip tight. If Cora was anything other than a werewolf, she would have had bruises, dark marks in the shape of Lydia’s fingers. Instead she felt them heal as she worked her hand, making Lydia gasp and shake against her. 

Lydia wasn’t hard to tease over the edge. Cora bit down on her neck, gently, as Lydia tightened around her fingers, went rigid and then softer and boneless.

Cora let her down against the desk, tugging Lydia’s clothes back into place. She wanted to push forward, ride Lydia’s slim, delicate leg, bring herself off. But Cora was all business.

“Now. Stiles. You know as well as we do that something isn’t right. He’s not like he was, before.”

Lydia pouted for a moment, then she fished around in her bag for a tissue and her make up. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

 

Lydia was a lot less confident when she met them at Derek’s new apartment later on. “I hadn’t realized it had got so bad.”

Lydia paced as Derek leaned against the wall and Cora took up most of the sofa, her homework spread around her, trying to let the conversation go on over her head. Allison had come over as well, a new interest in working with Derek and Cora being encouraged by concern for Lydia and Stiles. There was no sign of Scott or Isaac but Cora knew that whatever was said would probably be passed on to them in due course.

“He was always acerbic, a little on the cutting side.” Lydia shook her head. “I liked that about him, because it made him less of a pathetic loser.” Cora could tell that Lydia didn’t really mean that. In fact, she smelled of sadness. “He was just cruel, though. It’s like something hardened his heart.”

Derek nodded and Cora watched Lydia settle herself, paste on the mask of someone uncaring and a little dim and interested only in herself. Cora half wanted to strip that away again – she’d had enough of people who pretended to be one thing and were really another. It only led to heartbreak and disaster after all. The others discussed Stiles and his changed behavior, and Cora watched Lydia crawl more and more into herself.

 

The next time Cora burst into the abandoned office, Lydia wasn’t slow to kick out the random sophomore she was kissing a little frantically. Derek’s threats had moved straight through violent to pathetic begging until Cora couldn’t help but agree to get involved again and act as go between.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Lydia muttered, as Cora finished shoving the boy out of the door and slid the chair back under the door handle. “What is it this time?”

“Bargain first.” Lydia was perched on the desk again, blouse gaping. Cora cupped her breasts and pressed a quick kiss to Lydia’s still mostly perfect pout. Then Cora kissed her deeper, trying to wipe away the taste of the boy from earlier, all sweat and hormones. Lydia tasted sweeter when she was just herself. “You get off, we get help, right?”

“Okay.” Lydia had her hand in Cora’s hair and sounded a little on the dazed side. Cora turned the kiss filthy before dropping to her knees. Lydia was confused for a moment – letting slip a small, disappointed mew – before Cora slid her hands up under her skirt and tugged the satiny panties down. They were black this time, matching the bra, again, but Lydia let her slide them down without making any protest. 

The first touch of her mouth made Lydia squeak but she got herself under control as Cora pressed in more, making her tongue a point as she flicked it over Lydia’s clit. A continual litany of “Fuck, fuck, fuck” followed as Cora hitched Lydia’s legs out of the way and used her whole mouth against Lydia’s cunt, enjoying the clean taste, the way Lydia smelled. The way Lydia shuddered around her when Cora used her fingers to finish her off.

Lydia took a few minutes to come back to herself as Cora sat on the chair holding the door closed. She felt someone trying the handle and moving on as Lydia pulled herself back together, sitting prettily on the desk with her legs crossed as she touched up her make up. Cora could feel Lydia’s come drying on her face as she waited. Lydia’s hands trembled less and less as she powdered her nose and combed her hair smooth again.

“We need you to get Stiles to Deaton’s. He wants to do some tests.” Cora shifted on the chair. She wasn’t telling Lydia everything and it pricked at her conscience more than she was accustomed to. “We can’t ask Scott to do it.”

“No, Scott would…struggle.” Lydia tilted her head at Cora before hopping down and pulling her panties up. She made even that look elegant. “You won’t hurt him?”

“It might.“ Cora shook her head. “It probably will. But Derek will do his best to stop it being too bad.” Cora eyed Lydia evenly. “I think we’re running out of options. Apparently he’s been experimenting with magic.” Cora thought back over the conversation she’d overheard thanks to her sensitive ears. “Darach style magic.” 

 

Lydia just pushed Stiles through the door of Deaton’s and refused to answer his questions. Cora had seen Stiles in the hallways at school, passed him in the street even. She realized then and there that he’d been putting on a mask, pretending to be more normal than he was, just like she did. Here and now, there was no pretense.

Stiles smelled wrong. He smelled bitter and worn – always had, to Cora’s nose – but it was sharper. Noxious almost. She coughed and had to dig her hands into her thighs to stop herself from covering her nose and mouth. Derek’s face was pinched as well as he pushed off the wall and came forward, hands hovering as if he wanted to grab Stiles. Lydia closing the door behind them shook them into more determined movement.

“You need to see Deaton,” Derek tried. He was hesitant, in a way Cora couldn’t reconcile with either her brother from before or from now. Cora listened to their low argument, keeping an ear open for anyone else coming past.

“Just do it, Stiles.” Lydia’s voice cut across all their whining. “Do it for me.”

Stiles was mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. But he nodded at that. “Okay.”

Cora felt a sting of something she didn’t want to call jealousy. She wasn’t dating Lydia. They were nothing more than a convenient means to an end. There was nothing to be jealous about. But the way Stiles just gave in to Lydia’s demand without protest made her feel less, somehow. She ignored the sharp look from Derek and pushed Stiles through to the inner office, with the cold, steel table whose chill always settled into her bones for days. Then she walked away, shutting the door behind her.

 

Lydia was in the tiny room where Deacon kept his coffee maker and a couch when the screaming stopped. She was pale, a thin white line around her perfectly made up mouth. “What did Deaton do?”

“It’s over,” Cora said. She felt like she’d been running all night. She ached. “They had to find the source of his power and they did. Deaton says he knows what to do next.”

“Did it need to hurt so much?” Lydia snapped, her eyes narrowing. “Why am I asking you? You don’t _know_ anything. You’re just the messenger.” Lydia pushed herself to her feet, heels still perfectly in place. “You’re just the bribe.”

Cora didn’t stop her leaving.

 

Whatever Deaton and Derek had started to do with Stiles, whatever Scott got brought in on, Cora stayed out of as much as she could. She could see the tension in Derek’s shoulders when he crept back to their new apartment in the middle of the night, trying not to wake her. She avoided Lydia and Scott and everyone in the hallways at school, skipping lunch in favor of a run around the lacrosse field. She still had too much energy buzzing under her skin in her afternoon classes.

That was when Lydia seized her hand and towed her, strength surprising, and pulled her into the seemingly abandoned office that Lydia seemed to have adopted for her liaisons. Lydia angled the chair under the door and perched on the desk. But she wasn’t tilting her head up for a kiss, spreading her legs or unbuttoning her blouse. Instead she crossed her legs and stared at Cora.

“What are you doing, Cora?” Lydia only needed a spotlight to make the interrogation complete.

“I’m not doing anything.” Cora could feel her shoulders rising up around her ears. She forced her face to a blank slate and didn’t turn away, much as she wanted to.

“Exactly.” Lydia shrugged, artificially. “You asked for my help. You need to know what’s going on and help.”

“I can’t-“ Cora gave up trying to hide her discomfort and slid down the wall to sit on the floor. “Anytime I try to help, it just gets worse.”

Lydia hummed for a moment, her foot tapping in midair, her heel inscribing circles. “Derek didn’t ask your permission to heal you. Scott didn’t share his plans about the Alpha pact. No one told you about the Nemeton.” Lydia kept her foot moving smoothly, her voice even. “As far as I see it, you are just a passive bystander.”

Cora didn’t say anything. She didn’t really like that label but it was hard to argue with. She hadn’t succeeded in doing anything other than making Derek weak. Lydia’s cool, assessing stare didn’t shift and definitely didn’t give Cora any room to escape. The urge to run – flight – rose up, but there was nowhere to go. Fight it was.

“There was one thing I was pretty active in,” she ground out, pushing herself up off the floor and stalking towards Lydia. She was stopped by a very expensive shoe in the belly.

Lydia bit at her lip before narrowing her eyes. “Really? Because I think it was me who made the bargain in the first place.” She seemed to be drawing in another breath to say something else before she sighed. “Make up your mind what you want, Cora. I don’t think staying out of it suits you.”

Cora stepped back to allow Lydia her grand exit, before sinking onto the desk herself, all her energy gone.

 

The next full moon was here before she really realized it was approaching. That was a lie. She always knew the moon was near but it seemed to surprise her every month, its pull making her snappish before she recognized what it was. Being in Beacon Hills had made her soften, suburban living of a kind. She wasn’t in the wild anymore and Derek had always been one to shy away from the blood and survival side.

They were running, because what else would you do with the moon under your skin, when Cora realized they were running in a pattern, a circle growing tighter and tighter. “What’s happening?” she yelled when she realized she couldn’t stop either.

Derek snapped between his wolf face and his human for a moment, trying to break free. The wind picked up, strong and unnatural, blowing exactly the same way. He didn’t answer her but Cora knew he didn’t know either. Then Derek shrugged and threw himself into running again, faster and harder like he had something to prove. Cora kept up easily.

They were in a spiral – a knot – and it drew them closer and tighter to whatever was causing the pattern in the first place. Cora lengthened her claws and stumbled to a stop inside the clearing. The clearing of the Nemeton. She should have guessed. 

Sitting cross legged, perfectly composed, eyes open and unseeing was Stiles. Derek launched himself at him but was rebuffed by a mountain ash boundary. Cora swore she could hear chanting in the wind but Stiles’ mouth was sealed shut (for once), a thin drawn line. Derek threw himself against the barrier again before Cora thought to catch his shoulder and pin him in place.

“Whatever you’ve been doing with Deacon,“ Cora shouted, “isn’t working.”

Derek frowned before fishing out his phone and – honest to god – sending a mass text. Cora kept her eyes on Stiles, her hand on Derek’s shoulder and her mind racing. She couldn’t break the barrier herself but maybe she could throw something? A branch? She hoisted up a good sized rock and threw it. It bounced against Stiles’ chest, making him rock backwards and forcing his eyes to focus. “Hey! Stiles!”

The pull to run, to keep circling around the stump of the tree rose like gorge again. Cora planted her feet and clung tight to Derek. She tried to throw another rock. Derek joined her, his rock sharp and small and opening a cut on Stiles’ arm. That was the wrong thing to do. The wind pushed at them, trying to thrust them on.

Cora found that even her voice was starting to crack under the onslaught of wind and the need to stop whatever Stiles is doing. Cora knew that driving that was also regret that she’d stayed back, desperately tried to not get involved. Because getting involved meant she’d start to care, open herself up to heartbreak and trouble once again. Derek’s voice was hoarse with worry, with strain. With the realization that no matter what he did, it wasn’t enough.

Other people started to spill into the clearing, coming from all angles, not sticking to the pattern.

Lydia thrust her way to the front, heels and dress and coat massively out of place in the middle of the woods. The wind whipped her hair around her face and she scowled as she drew one of the strands away from her glossy lips. Maybe the others said something, did something, but Cora was caught by the way Lydia’s jaw tightened and she pushed her way out of the knot of worriers and calmly worked her way across the barrier and crawled closer to Stiles.

Lydia kissed him, once, on the cheek, and the wind dropped away to nothing.

Stiles’ eyes flared, a sickly sullen red, like an Alpha gone wrong, before that faded away. He seemed to shudder, his whole body wracked with shivers before they let off, diminished. Cora could put her finger on exactly when whatever had been in control of Stiles - the power he’d accumulated - turned and vanished. He smelled right again. 

Cora felt more than saw Derek let out a sigh of relief and she relaxed as well.

 

They were back in Derek’s apartment, scattered over the sparse furniture. Lydia had claimed an armchair, a diet soda, and Cora on the floor at her feet with her back against the seat.

“So. Who’s going to catch me up? What was Stiles trying to do?” Cora looked from Deaton to Derek to Scott, eyes steady. She didn’t yell, she didn’t demand. She was just ready.

Lydia huffed out a laugh and climbed to her feet, grabbing Cora’s hand and pulling her up too.

“What?” Cora wasn’t sure what was happening but she knew better than to not let Lydia get her way.

“You can find out later. Stiles isn’t going anywhere.” That much was true. Stiles was sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep, his head in Derek’s lap and his feet on Scott’s. Cora was sure he was drooling. “You need to get your part of the bargain.”

“My…what?” Cora tried to hold down the fierce hope that threatened to break free. Lydia looked annoyed, frustrated for a moment, before just moving towards the hallway that led to Cora’s bedroom. 

“Your reward.” Lydia muttered, as she kicked the door open. “And mine.” She was grinning, however, as she drew Cora into a kiss. It was sweeter than the ones they’d had before. “And you get to be naked for it.”

“Okay,” Cora said, willing to let Lydia take the lead.


End file.
